The Weightiness of Worship

When we come into worship on this day, there is a weightiness to what happens. We come soberly into worship because the sons of Aaron, Nadab, and Abihu, offered strange fire in the holy place, and God struck them dead. We come soberly because religious leaders compromised God’s Word, and God destroyed their temple. We come soberly because some in Corinth were eating and drinking to exalt themselves and dividing the Church and Paul says, “Some died, as a result!” Beloved, this is not some trivial exercise this morning.

There is a weightiness to worship that is not experienced anywhere/anytime except when we gather on the Lord’s Day. I was exposed these last few weeks to some of the most amazing sights in this country. Glorious mountains towering over each other in a competition of glory; lakes decorated with ice and snow, and sceneries that, unless you see it, you’d be tempted to think they were photoshopped. But all of creation’s glory cannot compare to the glory of human beings gathered in a building to enter into communion with God in worship.

Many years ago, a parishioner pulled me aside and asked, “Why do we talk so much about worship at Providence?” I remember giving him some pious answer, but if that question were asked today, I would say, “Because the only way human beings can feel light in God’s presence is if we understand the weightiness of worship.”

G.K. Chesterton once said that angels can fly because they take themselves lightly. Worship is weighty! But Christians come boldly before the throne of grace; which is to say, “they fly into God’s presence lightly.

Today, if you are lonely, God says, “Come!” Heavy burdened, God says, “Confess!” Needy, he says, “Hear!” Hungry, he says, “Eat!” And then to the blessed, he says, “Go!”

The weightiness of worship is for the lightness of your soul! Come to Jesus Christ!

Why Paedocommunion?

Unlike some traditions, Providence Church practices paedocommunion—which means that every baptized child in this congregation is welcomed to the table of Jesus Christ. We do this because the Bible says that discerning the body is the prerequisite to coming to this table. And we do not mean that by such an imperative, the requirement is a dissertation on the various atonement theories or the capability of understanding everything that happened on Good Friday, but rather to “discern the body” is to act in such a way that unites the body. If you are a divider of the body, you are not discerning the body, and I beg you to stay away, but children—as in the days of Jesus—are welcomed to the table because their presence is unifying. They—many times unlike many grown-ups—have little to no problem wanting the good and unity of the assembly. Today, we welcomed all baptized, especially the little children for unto such belongs the kingdom of heaven.

A Case for a Particular Kind of Singing

Give me a couple of minutes to indoctrinate you just a bit. After all, it’s the only reason I have a Facebook account. It will be slow and painless. I promise. I will even tell a few stories. Stick around!

Back in the 1990s–give or take a year or two before the rapture–I remember engaging in some random radio program when I lived in Pennsylvania. The speaker had this remarkable voice filled with the sophistication of someone trained rhetorically under the best. He hailed from a town about an hour from where I was called Ligonier.

I kept tuning in every night retiring early to make sure I was ready with a note-book before Robert Charles Sproul would come on the scene heralded by “Sinfonia” from Handel’s Messiah. The whole thing was sublime and coupled with Sproul’s elegance of delivery, it was theologically seductive and I didn’t even what “reformed” was at the time.

Part of my intrigue with Sproul was not only the gravitas of his delivery, but it was the way in which he symphonically engaged the arts and theology and culture–all three pieces ending with a major key of excellence. My wife and I spent some time attending his congregation in Sanford, and the sobering reality of the worship took my understanding of music to a whole new level. I grew up thinking that music was preferential; a box of chocolate wherein you get what you get and hope for the best. If you want to feel young again and receive a double portion of the Spirit, then you visit your local mega-church with all the excellence of audio recording and a fine assembly of musicians to lead the way. And, in most cases, their voices can easily guide the whole song. It is like a monastery led by professional cantors. I do not minimize their work. It is well done unto the Lord.

In other cases, if you grew up with St. Fannie Crosby, then there is a pre-determined holy 25 classics that can be played again and again by your sweet pianist with all her flowery glory. When you sing those songs you come to the garden alone and leave walking with Jesus. There is a certain addiction to those classics that is hard to erase in our evangelical culture.

I had the distinct privilege of being a part of both cultures, first as a little singer in the congregation my father pastored in Brazil, which was a potpourri of highly emotional choruses with a blend of old hymns. Then, later in my Christian life, I had the joy of leading music at a Presbyterian Church using the RUF selection which was hymns put into contemporary tunes.

As I walked through the music wars in various church contexts, I quickly realized that the entire conversation became a highly subjectivized dialogue. If you had a propensity to enjoy K-Love in your car rides, then your expectation was to enjoy it on the Lord’s Day also. If you had some classical background, then your expectation was also the same on Sundays. But the entire conversation lacked biblical rationale. It was not salted with the imagery of music in the Bible, especially in Israel’s worship. What was unique about Israel’s worship was the incense of it; a fragrance that did not match the smells of society. In short, it was other-worldly. Israel’s music shaped more than just the emotions of the people, but their intellect and desires. God’s people sang to become something they were not before singing.

I remember leading music for a small group of parents on Reformation Day. I cavalierly mentioned that Luther’s “A Mighty Fortress” is probably one of the most sung and known in all of history since the Reformation. One sweet mom humbly offered her lack of knowledge. She had never sung such a hymn. I asked her afterward what she thought, and she, again, gently told me that it would take her some time to figure it out. I was enamored by her response. I think it was the right one.

You see, good church music is the kind that takes a while for you to figure it out. It can’t be exhausted with a few guitar chords. It demands meditation and contemplation. For those of you who probably know me, you are aware of my musical dogma, but my point here is not to make a case for a 4th-century canticle, but to make the case for why the music you sing in church ought to compel you to think about it; to slowly process its value and lyrics. What church music ought to do is to train you for life as a thinker and ethicist. What do you value? What do you think? Is it music that can be consumed quickly like a cigarette, or the kind that you grow into? I am arguing for the latter.

Getting exhausted in Worship

This, of course, applies to a theme we care much about at Providence, which is how we worship. It’s not enough to talk about worship in generic categories, but we need to think carefully about how we worship. My presupposition is that healthy exhaustion should take place when we worship. We have worked, therefore, we have worshiped. If you come out of church and all you’ve been is a passive attendee, you’re doing it wrong. Worship is never a one-sided work. We are Protestants. We don’t think, “Hey, let’s let the professionals trained in theology do all the work and we just sit here as spectators.” If you feel this way, you may have walked into the wrong church building. We are here to exercise our ritual bones, to flex our liturgical muscles and to stretch our hands in adoration. Worship is the task of warriors.
-Transcript from a portion of today’s sermon on what it means to be a Christian ritualist

The Threat of a Chicken Sandwich

Writing for the New Yorker, Dan Piepenbring claims that the presence of Chick-fil-A in New York City is creepy in its “pervasive Christian traditionalism.” He cites the restaurant’s policies on closing on Sundays and its explicit Christian social views. In other words, Chick-fil-A is a symbol of that archaic institution called Christendom.

I note these things to affirm just how easily threatened the world is of good chicken served in the name of Jesus. How much more should they be threatened by bread and wine served by Jesus himself? If someone says that symbols don’t matter or don’t convey ideas, point them to a spicy chicken sandwich served at your local Chick-fil-A. And then point them to the elements of Christendom given by Jesus to memorialize his name. That’ll show them just how pervasive Jesus’ kingdom truly is.

Where is the fear of God?

R.C. Sproul’s greatest contributions in my estimation are his works on worship. I’ve encouraged many people to read through his excellent little book, A Taste of Heaven. He observes the disjointed view people have when they separate God’s demand for reverence in the Old and his demand in the New:

One aspect of the modern church that most saddens and concerns me is that believers are no longer encouraged to have a healthy fear of God. We seem to assume that the fear of the Lord is something that belonged to the Old Testament period and is not to be a part of the life of the Christian. But fear of God involves not simply a trembling before His wrath, but a sense of reverence and awe because of His glorious holiness.

One Solution to Scriptural Fatigue

Over the years I have experienced scriptural fatigue. I have never doubted the Bible’s authority or ability to change sinners, but I have gone through phases where reading the Bible became a chore rather than a meaningful engagement with written truth. Overcoming this fatigue can be difficult at times. Patterns are hard to undo. What has truly helped me over the years is seeing the Bible through the lens of what God is doing in the world and our call as kingdom agents in it.

The Scriptures refresh our mission as actors in God’s theater. When the kingdom of God is seen as supreme than everything else is added, including a fresh love and perspective of God’s Word. When the Bible becomes a therapeutic, individualist manual, then love for its truth varies based on our shifting emotional status. But if the kingdom and God’s mission take a central role in our hermeneutics and reading, it may not solve our occasional fatigue, but it will reshape our view of reading and learning from God’s Word.

Where is the celebration?

Note: This was written in 2007. Minor revisions were made. I still agree with myself after almost a decade. While shocking it remains true.

Unlike many, many churches this Sunday, our congregation did not celebrate 4th of July. There are at least two obvious reasons for this decision:

a) The 4th of July is not a universal ecclesiastical practice.

b) Jesus is Lord of the world.

In the last five years, I have pursued the study of American history, which has led me to the conclusion that there is something unique about the American Constitution, about its founding, and about its early practices in the colonies. The very fact that there is a dispute about the godly heritage of American history proves that some series of incidents occurred in order to provide such disputations. If the evidence was insignificant I seriously doubt the debate would even take place. Nevertheless, in whatever camp one falls, it is incumbent to realize that Sabbath worship is not the place for exalting the glories of a nation, its godly heritage, or its “victories” in foreign lands.

There is a fundamental displacement of ecclesiastic priorities when a congregation replaces the adoration of the Holy Trinity for the adoration of the “holy” state. Laurence Vance is correct when he summarizes the nature of these patriotic services:

Unfortunately, what this means in many cases is state worship instead of God worship. Songs will be sung in praise of the state instead of in praise to God. The flag will be saluted instead of the Bible being exalted.

This observation illustrates well my two points mentioned above. The first one is that the “4th of July patriotic service” is not a universal service; it does not involve the holy and apostolic church. In fact, it diminishes the glory of the church catholic by exalting the glory of the church in America. This is not the nature of Biblical history, which sees the church as a universal manifestation of the kingdom of our Lord Jesus.

The place for celebration and feasting on the benefits of our history is noble and should take place in its proper time and context. We should eat, drink and be merry and keep living. We should be grateful to a nation that has provided us freedoms to oppose its principles and leaders at certain times. However, the celebration of the Lord’s Day looks to something far greater than the Constitution or George Washington. The Lord’s Day is reserved for the liturgy of the church, the proclamation of the counsel of God, and a consummative ritual called the Eucharist, where the people feast on Christ, not on hot dogs and burgers. Keeping this distinction clear will aid the church in proclaiming what the world truly needs to hear.

The only events that are clear from Scriptures and the holy church are those that have been confirmed and applied in time and history and that are grounded in the sacred testimony of Scriptures.1 Hence, the point is that any celebration not rooted in the history of the Church or the Bible is not worthy to be brought to the pulpit or the table of the Sabbath feast.

The Christian, who believes the Lord’s Day ought to be an exposition of the glories of country rather than the glories of Christ, robs himself of true joy. The Bible exalts the Sabbath worship to a heavenly throne, where the angels adore and cry Holy, Holy, Holy. Every Sunday, the church triumphant lauds the eternal city on earth, the city of God and His Christ. No earthly celebration should match or replace the wonder of this heavenly feast.

The second point is rather clear as well: The Lordship of Christ extends to the entire world. Affirming thus does not exclude America, but it serves to show that Christ’s reign is universal. His intention is to bring the world under His dominion and not simply one country. This pervasive idea may be due to the overly localized ecclesiology. Denominations that boast in their independent status as opposed to the inter-connectedness of the church usually fail to see this point. These churches act like the prodigal son who believes if he maintains a level of independence with his father’s funds, then he can make it. At least the prodigal son, in the end, realizes that his funds are limited, his accountability is limited, and his individuality can only go so far. It is this thinking that has kept the church from celebrating the kingdom of God.

American churches need to realize that boasting in anyone, but Christ is foolish indeed. It is the Christian message we raise as our banner; it is the Christian Christ we raise as the God and any other challenge to this model is deemed to failure.

Footnotes

  1. Examples would be Resurrection Sunday, Advent, etc. [ back]

What is Holy Saturday?

The Passion Week provides diverse theological emotions for the people of God. Palm Sunday commences with the entrance of a divine King riding on a donkey. He comes in ancient royal transportation. The royal procession illicit shouts of benediction, but concludes only a few days later with shouts of crucifixion as the king is hung on a tree.

The Church also celebrates Maundy Thursday as our Messiah provides a new commandment to love one another just as He loved us. The newness of the commandments is not an indication that love was not revealed prior (Lev. 19), but that love is now incarnate in the person of love, Jesus Christ. We then proceed to sing of the anguish of that Good Friday as our blessed Lord is humiliated by soldiers and scolded by the offensive words of the religious leaders of the day. As he walks to the Mount, his pain testifies to Paul’s words that he suffered even to the point of death (Phil. 2)But hidden in this glaringly distasteful mixture of blood, vinegar, and bruised flesh is the calmness of the day after our Lord’s crucifixion.

After fulfilling the great Davidic promise in Psalm 22, our Lord rests from his labors in the tomb. Whatever may have happened in those days before his resurrection, we know that Christ’s work as the unblemished offering of love was finished.

The Church calls this day Blessed Sabbath or more commonly, Holy Saturday. On this day, our Lord reposed (rested) from his accomplishments. Many throughout history also believe that Holy Saturday is a fulfillment of Moses’ words:

God blessed the seventh day. This is the blessed Sabbath. This is the day of rest, on which the only-begotten Son of God rested from all His works . . .(Gen. 2:2)

The Church links this day with the creation account. On day seven Yahweh rested and enjoyed the fruit of his creation. Jesus Christ also rested in the rest given to him by the Father and enjoyed the fruits of the New Creation he began to establish and would be brought to light on the next day.

As Alexander Schmemann observed:

Now Christ, the Son of God through whom all things were created, has come to restore man to communion with God. He thereby completes creation. All things are again as they should be. His mission is consummated. On the Blessed Sabbath He rests from all His works.

Holy Saturday is a day of rest for God’s people; a foretaste of the true Rest that comes in the Risen Christ. The calmness of Holy Saturday makes room for the explosion of Easter Sunday. On this day, we remember that the darkness of the grave and the resting of the Son were only temporary for when a New Creation bursts into the scene the risen Lord of glory cannot contain his joy, and so he gives it to us.